


Cat and Mouse

by EmeraldWaters



Series: Seasons [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not K-Pop Idols, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Insecurity, M/M, Miscommunication, They're literally married and you can't convince me otherwise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-10 13:00:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11692161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldWaters/pseuds/EmeraldWaters
Summary: They've been doing this all backwards





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> Well guess who's back...
> 
> Originally this wasn't actually going to be a fic. Then it was going to be a small one, and then next thing you know it's almost 20,000 words. Honestly though I'm not even mad, Jongdae and Minseok are my biases and I love them together (they deserve more recognition).
> 
> This is set in the same universe as my last work, and is a companion piece to Autumn Eyes (Kaisoo), and although it can probably be read as a stand alone, it would make more sense if you've read it. In this, their ages are all roughly the same except for Jongdae who I've made younger than Kyungsoo but older than Jongin and Sehun. Again, this story is set in Korea and I am English, so bear with me.
> 
> Major props to my sister who I forced to read and edit, and who came up with a few ideas. Bless.
> 
> Just remember these are real people, and this is all fiction made for my, and your amusement. It is never okay to push these things onto EXO. 
> 
> Alright? Let's go! Hope you enjoy!

 

Three years. Three years of bliss, of fun, of love. Minseok can’t fight the grin that bubbles its way to the surface, smiling to himself as he prepares a customer’s coffee. According to a teasing Jongdae, his happiness is so apparent it’s almost a physical entity.

“Ah, Minseok hyung, what’s got you in such a good mood?” The head chef, Kyungsoo, asks, poking his head through the serving window.

He pauses in his humming. “Luhan and my three-year anniversary is today.”

“Speaking of,” Kyungsoo says, left side of his mouth rising as he nods at something past Minseok’s shoulder.

“Luhan!” Minseok calls, feeling his smile become even wider as he turns to see his boyfriend walk in. Luhan doesn’t appear to hear him though, a little frown on his face, looking down, his eyebrows furrowed.

For the first time today, Minseok’s smile wavers. What’s wrong? Is he okay?

“Lu?” He repeats, quietly, when Luhan gets to the counter. His boyfriend looks up then and a smile lands on his face, finally, but Minseok is not reassured because it’s a fake absent-minded thing and Minseok hasn’t seen Luhan look like this since he’d been worried about losing his job. “Lu are you okay? Is something wron-“

“-We should break up,” comes loudly from his boyfriend’s mouth, and the coffee cup slips from Minseok’s hand. It shatters. By the matching frozen look on Luhan’s face, he didn’t mean to say it.

But he did.

Something like tears crawls its way up his chest and locks his throat when Luhan looks at him sadly, but repeats his words. _He means them._

Panic wins the fight to the surface and Minseok’s throat works furiously because surely this is a dream, surely this isn’t happening, he thought they were in love. People are staring, people are whispering but nothing comes to him and his hands are caught white-knuckled in his apron. What went wrong?

Yixing appears, drawn most likely by the broken noise of the cup. “Luhan, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” He says to his friend, in a quiet tone, but his voice walking on knife’s edge, and Minseok must look awful for Yixing of all people to speak like that.

Hands, gentle hands, pull him away, guiding him into the staffroom, settling him on the couch, tenderly pulling his leg to stretch onto the coffee table. Minseok’s eyes focus enough to see its Jongdae, and he bravely watches his friend for a minute, before his face crumples. Jongdae’s kitten-mouth is pulled into a frown and when he sees Minseok break, he abandons patching up the little spots of blood – his heart aren’t the only shards that cut – to clamber beside him and pull him into the tightest hug.

Jongdae doesn’t say anything, doesn’t whisper him words that soothe or tell him that he’s okay and Minseok is glad.

Trembling, eyes somehow dry despite the feelings welling up, Minseok presses himself into the comfort of Jongdae’s arms, because he is so very far from okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just before I forget, Cat and Mouse is going to have alternating points of view between Jongdae and Minseok throughout the story. 
> 
> Enjoy and please comment! :)

 

That was a year ago.

Minseok shakes himself from the memory, both disappointed and disgusted. It’s been a year since they broke up and the same amount of time since he last saw Luhan, and yet Minseok’s mind always returns to him. Like a default menu. At the grocery store, at work, in his classes. Always the _what if,_ the _why_. What would happen if they saw each other again? Would Luhan decide he was wrong, that Minseok was the best thing that happened to him and they’d fall back into love again.

It was sad. Pathetic. _Pointless._ Yet, like a wound, he kept picking at it, worrying it, not letting it heal. (Never letting it heal).

Angry with himself, Minseok texts Jongdae to let him know he’ll be late home after class, on a whim making a plan to go out tonight. To actually go home with someone. To not stand outside Lotto for half an hour before leaving because he’s flooded with memories. Like he’s somehow cheating, even though that’s wrong and stupid because Luhan broke up with _him._

It’s settled. Minseok hands a couple their orders, smiling without the usual bitter jealousy. Spontaneity is so unlike him, but maybe it’s what he needs.

A weird, burning resolve has started in his stomach. 

 

* * *

 

On the nights Minseok is home late, Jongdae cooks. 

It wasn’t something that was ever decided, or formally agreed on when Jongdae moved in, it just happened.

Spending too many nights watching Minseok stumble in, dead on his feet, only to cook them both a meal or forgo food completely, Jongdae decided it was time enough for him to pull his weight. Learned quickly enough too, because the only thing worse than cooking, is having to order takeaway _after_ cooking something completely inedible because he didn’t take enough care with following the recipe.

He doesn’t enjoy cooking, no, but does take pleasure in the relief on Min’s shoulders when he comes home and doesn’t have to.

Usually dinner is timed well-enough that they can eat together but not tonight. No, tonight Jongdae is still alone at eleven, food long since eaten, dishes clean, Minseok’s plate cold and covered. (It had been odd, eating alone, the first time in so many nights).

It’s midnight when he hears the key in the lock. Still perched on the barstool, his head jumps up from where it had been bent over his phone.

Minseok walks in, dumping his briefcase in such an out-of-character way that Jongdae stares. He calls a greeting, which Jongdae returns a beat later than he should, because his eyes are caught at his chest. Because Minseok, clean-freak Minseok, who takes great pride in appearances to the point of ridiculousness sometimes, has an uneven collar and a rumpled shirt. When he gets closer, Jongdae can smell the perfume lingering on his skin.

For once, Minseok’s tendency for quietness sits like a pill; hard to swallow.

Humming lowly as he flits around the kitchen, Minseok doesn’t notice the discomfort in the eyes following him.

Jongdae looks at his hands so he doesn’t have to look at Minseok, who’s leaning against the counter as he waits for his food to reheat. Doesn’t have to look at the mussed hair, the wrinkled shirt (because now he has noticed, he can’t stop noticing). He bites back the question _where were you,_ because it’s fairly obvious, and Jongdae doesn’t really want to know.

"Have a good night hyung?" Jongdae asks eventually, because apparently he’s a masochist, voice steady like he hasn’t been waiting all night for his return.

Minseok rubs his eyes but smiles at him, big and gummy. "It was alright."

“That’s good,” He says, and years of practice is what helps him return the smile easily.

“That was good Dae,” Minseok compliments after the stretched silence as he rinses the bowl, and Jongdae hates the way his heart leaps.

Jongdae sighs, making a big show of standing up and stretching, unable to stay any longer when he sees the lipstick press against Minseok's neck. “I’m gonna head to bed.”

_Coward._

“Okay, sleep well. You hadn’t been waiting up long?”

“Nah, just got caught up on my phone,” Jongdae replies, bidding Minseok goodnight and disappearing into his room. Jongdae laughs. He’s a liar; he’d been waiting for Minseok to come home under the kitchen light since six, foot curled around his stool. Like he does every day.

(Living with Minseok has made Jongdae a good liar).

Jongdae lays awake for god knows how long, staring up at the ceiling, struggling with two sides of himself. One side, the best friend side, the one that noticed Minseok doubting himself and losing so much weight in the months after Luhan, is glad that he is making the moves to move on. The other side, the selfish one that wants Minseok to himself, that has noticed the appreciative looks at Minseok’s thinner cheeks, sharper jawline and more defined arms, is screaming in jealousy.

Punching his pillow a few times, Jongdae rolls over, seeing the light switch off from underneath his door.

They’re practically joined at the hip, have been in each other’s pockets for four years and it strikes Jongdae now, that although their friendship goes deep, much deeper than favourite colours, knowing each other with just a look; that there’s a side to Minseok he doesn’t know. Might not ever know, if Minseok starts dating someone else.

Spurred into action by the fear of losing him, rather than by any confidence on his part, Jongdae resolves to finally woo Minseok as he falls asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I have absolutely no self-control, i'm going to post the next chapter today! (literally it's been up for a day). Just letting you know there are three line-breaks but only one change in point of view. This is just a filler chapter unfortunately, but we'll getting the more exciting stuff soon, promise!
> 
> Enjoy :)

Three days pass with no result.

Mainly because Jongdae chickens out and hasn't actually done anything. _Still._ Potentially ruining your best friendship is a scary prospect, and that's saying something because Jongdae doesn't scare easily. (Before now it was never the right time and he got good at hiding what he felt, careful not to touch, or to look too long. Almost too good at hiding, because now that Jongdae finally has a chance, he doesn’t know how to voice the thoughts he’s been cutting himself on. Doesn’t know what to do with these feelings without somehow blurting out that he’s been in love with Minseok for almost as long as he's known him).

Jongdae thinks all this whilst mopping the floor. As the waiter on morning shifts at Exordium, he’s in charge of the mopping and dusting, as well as setting the table places. He doesn’t mind it, it gives him time to think. Or to sing. As he does today, the words to a more subdued song that Chanyeol had given him to learn. One of many, for the eventual day he makes a musical debut.

But today’s a day of doubts, it seems, all the anxieties he usually doesn’t have, bubbling up, curling into his throat.

Distraction arrives in the form of a disgruntled Kyungsoo. The man looks halfway to falling asleep, under eyes even more bagged than usual, lips pulled into a frown, and Jongdae can’t help but tease.

Kyungsoo snaps back at him but Jongdae grins wider, until Minseok chides him from behind the counter. (Somehow, Jongdae had forgotten he was there).

Minseok laughs at Jongdae’s pout. Kyungsoo disappears into the kitchen.

Before the brief burst of courage abandons him, Jongdae lets his gaze drop obviously to the swell of Minseok’s lower lip. Flicks his heavy eyes up to Minseok’s shocked ones.  And if Jongdae sidles close enough to Minseok that their hips brush on his way to serve a group of older women, well that’s just coincidence, isn’t it?

 

* * *

 

Minseok doesn’t have class on Mondays.

Instead, he works the morning barista shift with Jongdae. It works out well, because they can take the car and he doesn’t have to feel guilty about leaving his friend to walk in the autumn weather (even though Jongdae says he doesn’t mind).

Minseok pauses to straighten the staffroom, but Jongdae disappears out into the store-front as soon as they arrive.

Unlike waiters, baristas actually only start five minutes before opening, rather than thirty. So there’s really no need for him to be here, but it makes it easier for the both of them.  He doesn’t mind the early start.

“Oh hello Minseok, you’re here early,” Junmyeon says as he walks in. It’s kind of a joke between them now. He lifts the box he’s cradling, “I’m not staying long, I’ll just stack these and then I’ll be off.”

Minseok hums, wiping the table before organising all the staffroom cups and bowls. Junmyeon never does get to stay long, popping in and out, time stretched thin between three businesses; Minseok offers to help where he can. It is easier for Junmyeon now since he promoted Yixing. (This comes as a relief to all of them because he was running himself ragged).

By the time he’s satisfied with the staffroom (and the toilets), it’s ten to, and Minseok heads out towards the store-front – where Jongdae is setting the tables – to print today’s specials on the blackboard. Junmyeon calls his goodbyes from the door to the staffroom.

Minseok has gravitated back behind the counter when Kyungsoo arrives. Jongdae baits Kyungsoo (the usual) and Minseok chides him for it (also the usual). The pout he gets in return when the chef disappears is also the norm.

What isn’t however, is the look Jongdae turns on him next, eyes lidded, staring hard at Minseok’s mouth.

Startled, because there is no way to mistake a look like that, Minseok is frozen when Jongdae lets their legs brush as he passes.

Now, to some degree Minseok knows he's always been cute: with large cat-eyes, big rounded cheeks framed by the curl of his bangs, and a gummy smile. Now, with a more flattering haircut, a fitter body and slimmer cheeks, he's teetering on the edge of fuckable. Despite his reservedness, he is not blind to the appreciative looks sent his way. _It’s just that._ In four years Jongdae has never once looked at him like that.

A sense of unease creeps up into his chest, focusing inwards. He doesn’t know why the thought of Jongdae looking at him like that unsettles him so.

With a subtle shake of his head, Minseok takes the next orders that come in, managing a smile to every person, handing them their numbers. He’s not one to zone out, regardless of mental chatter.

After preparing the first batch of drinks – two iced coffees for the couple at table five – there’s a brief lull. Minseok flits around anyway, until he sets a coffee at the serving window for Kyungsoo, docking it from his own discount. The smile he gets in return is worth every throb of the skin he just burnt – it seems no matter how long he works here, he’ll still always start the week with one sore finger.

Unsure, he can’t help but tense slightly when Jongdae approaches, but the man just sets two empty cups on the bench for him. Jongdae smiles, sweet, and Minseok relaxes.

He must've imagined it. _Of course he did,_ Minseok thinks, feeling silly. Jongdae is his best friend. Jongdae wouldn’t look at him like _that._

From then on, the work picks up, steady, as people have their own work breaks, preferring to stop for just drinks rather than a whole meal. Minseok slips into the work like a second skin, content and calm. Well-rested and pleased that Luhan is finally starting to slip from his mind and that all is normal, the smiles as he greets customers come easily.

Easily enough apparently that he ends up with two cell-phone numbers before his break.

 

* * *

 

"Sorry," Minseok says again as he fall-sits into the staffroom's armchair. One of the head-chefs had called in sick which made things hard enough, but then an un-booked table of ten showed up. Not one to leave his team to fend for himself, he had stayed on to help, but that meant Jongdae had been stuck here.

"I told you hyung it's alright. I was rostered on to stay later anyway," the younger man replies, moving next to Minseok, ruffling the strands of his hair not hidden by his beanie. When Jongdae’s hands fall back to his sides, his sleeves cover half his hands.

Although there’s quite the age-gap between them, Minseok always tends to forget about it until moments like now, where Jongdae looks so young.

Jongdae stays perched on the couch arm as Minseok goes to change but when he returns a good seven minutes later - unable to resist the urge to clean himself up - he has moved to stand in the doorway.

Kyungsoo's friend Baekhyun (who by extension is all their friend) has somehow taken control of one of the couches. Junmyeon's friend Minho, watches on stoically from the corner, arms folded. As one of the more casual staff, and fairly quiet, he doesn't involve himself much. (In terms of Baekhyun, Minseok doesn’t blame him).

Shooting Jongdae a look as he sits down opposite the Baekhyun, Minseok opens his mouth, but is beaten to it by Kyungsoo's entrance, which immediately changes from relieved to frustrated.

They start bickering. (No one is surprised).

Minseok tunes in after waving at Minho as he leaves, watching Kyungsoo and Baekhyun back and forth, trying to hold back his smile when Baekhyun’s body is pulled half onto the ground. He likes Baekhyun, he honestly does, but has little patience for the man's antics and oral fixation - Minseok is twenty-eight, he will not tolerate being bitten like a child!

The argument ends as it always does, with Kyungsoo reluctantly agreeing and Baekhyun being cheeky, somehow getting away with it.

Baekhyun flits out of the room with Kyungsoo’s bag, Jongdae following him. Minseok waits for Kyungsoo.

They make idle chat as they head outside. Light is already fading from the surroundings, darkness a backdrop to the well-lit restaurant. Kyungsoo hovers as Minseok digs for his keys and does a cute little shuffle when he tells him he doesn't have to wait. People only seem to see him around Baekhyun, Minseok thinks, because they forget about genuine he is. Behind-the-scenes perhaps, but Kyungsoo is by nature quite caring. The chef thanks him and tells him goodnight, Minseok shooting back the same wishes.

Across the lot, Jongdae is a shadow against their car, and Minseok pauses. Hesitant. He’s used to the side-lines, watching and observing, not used to being a part of drama himself.

Minseok’s hand squeezes around the cold metal of his keys. _You’re being ridiculous,_ he reprimands. It’s only Jongdae. Hadn’t he already decided it was his imagination? Pulling on his figurative big-hyung-pants, Minseok walks over, barely a minute having passed in real time.

Jongdae looks up from his phone to smile at him.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

 _See,_ Minseok tells himself, there was _absolutely_ nothing to be worried about.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back again!
> 
> Idk if anyone actually reads these but I'm just letting you know that the formatting is a bit different than usual because I couldn't figure out how else to break up this chapter in a way that suited me. I hope it's not too bothersome!
> 
> Anyways, enjoy and please comment! 
> 
> (Super sorry if you have already and I didn't reply, I'm a bit anxious at scaring you off)

_Tuesday_

 

With the combination of work and class into a twelve-hour day, by the time Minseok gets home on the Tuesday night, he's forgotten all about yesterday. Although he'd like nothing more than to sleep, he drags himself through the motions of putting his stuff away, changing into sweats and eating dinner, before he finally allows himself to collapse on the couch. By the sound of water behind the low hum of the TV, Jongdae is in the shower.

Shuffling back so his head is on the armrest, he lets his eyes shut. Moments away from sleep, Minseok startles when he hears the pad of footsteps towards him.

Minseok settles again as Jongdae clambers his way up, their feet tangling (thankfully the head that pillows into his chest is dry). Honestly the couch isn't big enough for them both - Jongdae squeezed tight against the back - but he's warm, and the press of his body is nice; Minseok's hand settling in the black of Jongdae's hair. It isn't until the other man has been silent for ten minutes that he realises Jongdae’s eyes have shut.

Originally, Jongdae had only been ever meant to stay with him a couple of days while he looked for a flat during his second year of University. Days turned into weeks (turned into months) and he was pleasant to live with so Minseok said _stay._ It’s been something like two years now, and he doesn’t regret it one bit.

Shifting slightly so Jongdae's bony elbow isn't digging into his ribs, Minseok gets himself comfortable.

 

 

 

 

 

Roused by gentle hands, Minseok opens eyes he only meant to close for a minute. His side is cold from a recently-departed warmth and he finds Jongdae is kneeling on the floor now, knees pressed into the carpet.

"What time is it?" Minseok asks, with a hand rubbing his eye, voice only a little groggy.

"Ten thirty.”

Minseok swings his legs off the couch, Jongdae sitting back on his heels to give him room. Jongdae's knee clicks as they both stand, prompting a quiet huff of laughter.

He sets his hand on Jongdae's shoulder, squeezing briefly. "Goodnight Dae."

"Goodnight," He echoes.

 

* * *

 

 

_Wednesday_

 

On Wednesday mornings class starts late, at twelve, and goes to six.

Tuesday to Friday, Exordium opens at eight rather than ten, so by the time Minseok wakes at eight-thirty, Jongdae is already gone.

When Minseok pokes his head through the curtain he sees the car sitting where he left it last night. Jongdae left it again. Minseok sighs as he throws on his sports gear, he doesn’t even really need it today – he could’ve caught a lift. _Stupidly selfless Jongdae._

After locking up, Minsoek runs the two km to the gym and spends the next hour and a half lifting weights, doing bench presses and push-ups before ending with flipping a few tires. He has exactly enough time to run home, shower and gather all his study things before he leaves again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sitting in lectures, hunched over his notes for six hours is painful as it is - without adding the fact he almost spent two hours at the gym - so by the time Minseok gets home, his shoulders are _aching_. Neck tight, and hurting, he forgoes dinner for now, and just rests his body against the couch for a minute.

Hands come down on his shoulders, and Minseok leans back into them as Jongdae starts kneading. “Arm day?”

“Yeah, and then spent the next six hours bent over blueprints, trying to find where my partner went wrong. How was work?”

Jongdae scoffs. “Great. Spent most of the morning getting abused by a man who felt he was entitled to all my time, other customers be damned.”

His hands tighten with his frustrated words and Minseok rolls his shoulders as the knots loosen. Despite himself, Minseok’s eyes shut with the movement of the muscles being worked out. Relaxed and too tired to care, Minseok finds himself slipping in his seat slightly… Until the hands slide to trail down the front of his dress-shirt.

Eyes snapping open, Minseok sits up so fast he has to rush to straighten the laptop on his knees. “What?” he blurts, uncharacteristically off-guard.

“Sorry for startling you hyung. Just wanted to make sure you were relaxed,” Jongdae replies easily. The heaviness Minseok saw on Tuesday is back in his eyes. “Well, I’m heading off to work on one of my lyric pieces, goodnight hyung,” he says before he disappears, casual as anything.

Minseok’s stomach sinks. He knows now where he’s seen those eyes before.

They’re on every person who checks him out in the street, the ones that want to sleep with him but not know him. That thinks his cuteness makes him an easy target. Makes him desperate. That thought he should be _grateful_ for their attention.

Jongdae, the one constant in the few years of uncertainty, heartbreak and exam anxiety. Jongdae who he's shared everything with, his work, eyerolls at rude customers, their voices in a duet. Jongdae who tempers him out so well, who Minseok jokingly called once his wife because they got along so well. Jongdae, who just looked at him with bedroom-eyes like that.

Minseok wants to scream _not you too._

 

* * *

 

_Saturday_

 

 _No one ever talks about living with someone you love,_ Jongdae thinks bitterly. It's like stepping on thorns, cutting yourself on your own knives, because he can’t blame anyone else, he chose this, puts himself through this every hour of every goddamn day, trying to convince himself that seeing Minseok with another person wouldn't kill him inside.

How escaping the love is impossible because he experiences parts of Minseok no one else is privy to, is absolutely drowning in this man because Minseok’s shields are down around Jongdae, soul bared so open to him.

It’s cruel, because Jongdae has seen him cry. Knows what Minseok looks like first thing in the morning with hair flattened to the side, swallowed by a gigantic sweatshirt. Has seen what he looks like post-workout glistening with sweat, sharp-rising chest, column of his throat taut. Knows the shine in his eyes when he completes an architecture assignment. Has seen the slow demolition of his outside persona, into someone who actually comes alive in Jongdae’s company, rather than someone who bites his tongue because he doesn’t want to impose.

But it’s awkward now. While Minseok may think he’s good at hiding it but Jongdae knows, feels, the layer of tension that wasn’t there three days ago. Notices the man’s hesitation in his words and stiffening of his spine when he gets too close. How there’s always something he has to do, or somewhere else where he has to be.

It’s almost like before, when Minseok didn’t want to speak, and pushed him away again and again. Jongdae had kept pushing because that’s what he did before, and still does, prepared to leave it alone if Minseok tells him to. But Minseok never does, just laces himself uptight the way he always has, even before Luhan, years of effort dwindling.

It’s almost like a worn-out spring, burgeoning gaps where they used to be so tightly wound together. _It’s a fitting metaphor_ , Jongdae muses, hands stilling on his phone; because even though they were close, like a spring they never fully touched.

Painting a pretty smile on his face, he goes to work. Is his usual loud, sarcastic self and no one knows the mess he holds inside.

 

* * *

 

_Thursday_

 

Slightly less than a week later, Jongdae is sat in the lounge, bouncing his knee. They’ve got a staff meeting in twenty minutes, and Minseok is still getting ready. It’s unusual for one of them to have to wait for the other as they’re both fairly organised people, but Minseok has made himself late in his effort to avoid him.

 _He’s almost become hare-brained_ Jongdae thinks, lip curled as he watches the shift of Minseok’s shoulder blades as the usually calm man darts out of the bathroom with no shirt on. Minseok stutters to a stop when he notices Jongdae watching – slumped comfortably in the crook of the couch – eyebrows raised. _Is that_ _a tattoo he sees?_ Minseok’s arms rush to cross his stomach when Jongdae’s eyes drift to where skin meets trousers, before he disappears into his room.

Rather amused at all of this, despite the sting of rejection, Jongdae snorts. It’s almost a role-reversal, a drama where _Minseok_ is the blushing schoolgirl around her crush. Jongdae sniggers, taking a moment to picture him in a skirt.

They end up in the staffroom with plenty of time to spare, saving a seat for Kyungsoo. At ease, Minseok starts chatting with him, as if the awkwardness that has been plaguing them for a week never happened. It must be the other people, Jongdae realises, surrounded as they are, Minseok must see them as a buffer, assuring Jongdae won’t act.

Pondering this, only half-tuned into Junmyeon’s speech – he’ll get an email from his cousin about it later anyway, Jongdae reaches a conclusion. Because no matter the way Minseok has been acting, if he tells him to stop Jongdae would, if he asks him to leave he would – although it would kill him – but he hasn’t and that’s the thing. There must be something at play here. Because Minseok has never held back his words around Jongdae.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mercifully his shift goes quickly with all his customers being pleasant - he doesn’t happen to break or spill anything either - and he’s on his last break before he knows it. 

Baekhyun is there when he walks into the staffroom, lying on the couch on his phone. (Although not as close as Kyungsoo and Baekhyun, Jongdae gets along with Baekhyun well, bouncing jokes off each other teasing back and forth. Around him, Jongdae can act his age).

Ultimately unsurprised to find him there, because he’s _always_ here for some reason, Jongdae takes advantage of his hyung’s distraction, and sits on his stomach.

There’s a brief wrestling match after Baekhyun drops his phone on his face, and naturally this is when Minseok walks in. Both men freeze, tangled on the couch, looking absurdly guilty.

“I don’t want to know,” Minseok sighs eventually, turning towards the kitchen-half of the staffroom to make himself a coffee.

Baekhyun silently turns to look at Jongdae, raising his eyebrows. Baekhyun is the sole person who knows about Jongdae’s feelings for Minseok – only because Baekhyun _apparently_ recognises ‘heart eyes’ when he sees them, and Jongdae was a little too drunk to defend himself.

Jongdae shakes his head, Baekhyun mouths _why_ and Jongdae shakes his head more vigorously. They are _not_ having this conversation. Especially while Minseok is here.

In the year and a half that Baekhyun has known he’s kept quiet, not even telling Chanyeol, but he is a wicked tease, and is always nagging him about saying something. Often in the near vicinity of others, which sends unaccustomed panic down Jongdae’s spine.

But Baekhyun is Baekhyun, and he opens his mouth again and Jongdae dives at him _just knowing_ he will say the next part out loud. Almost frantic in his effort to shut Baekhyun up, Jongdae ends up sitting on top of the smaller man’s curled form, aggressively pushing a pillow into his face.

Minseok turns back around. Eyebrows raised very expressively as he takes a drink from the mug, he doesn’t say anything but Jongdae knows what he’s thinking.

Jongdae shifts off Baekhyun, ignoring the complaint about how heavy he is, and throws the pillow at him for good measure.

Minseok’s hands are curled around his cup. “What brings you here Baekhyun?”

Draped across the couch now, the man smiles his rectangular smile, soaking in the attention. “Boredom mainly. But also, my dear Minseok – “ Minseok rolls his eyes – “I meant to tell you that the craziest thing happened the other day.”

Min’s interest must be piqued despite himself because he asks, “What happened the other day?”

Baekhyun makes such a show of preparing his story that Jongdae tells him to hurry up, which earns him an eyeliner-lined glare. Honestly, with the way he acts, it’s lucky he’s cute. “ _As I_ _was_ about to say. Kyungsoo and I took Mongryong to the vet the other week, and Kyungsoo was weirdly happy? Like I was being my usual charming self which he pretends to hate with that little evil glare that he does. But no joke, Soo was actually smiling,” Baekhyun rattles, blissfully unaware of his impending doom.

Jongdae has to bite the inside of his lip when Kyungsoo walks into the staffroom near the end of Baekhyun’s speech, but lets the laugh burst out of his mouth unrestrained when the chef hits Baekhyun upside the head as he passes.

Kyungsoo turns to glare at them all when he gets out his phone, but Jongdae can’t quite hold his smile as Baekhyun rubs the back of his head, spluttering indignantly. Jongdae would perhaps be contrite if the focus was on him, but turned on Baekhyun as it is, he just sits back in his seat to watch the show.

(He’s not disappointed, Baekhyun getting all but chased out, getting a water bottle thrown at him).

Jongdae’s break time runs out, and he ties his apron on, making his stand. Kyungsoo’s scolding follows him out and for someone as short as he is, Kyungsoo can sure be intimidating; but the laugh still bubbles in his throat as he leaves the staffroom, holding his hands up in mock surrender.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Back again! 
> 
> You would not believe how hard it is to not post this story all at once, I have to exercise every little bit of self-control I have (aka not much) to even just make it a week before I post again. This chapter is a wee bit short, but don't worry because the later chapters will definitely make up for it. 
> 
> For those who read Autumn Eyes, this is the dance recital chapter, just in case it's not clear :)
> 
> Enjoy!!

Minseok potters around the kitchen in the staffroom, trying to waste the ten minutes before Kyungsoo finishes. He saw Yixing this morning too, albeit briefly, and Yixing’s smile can fool many yes, but not them, and the hard stare of little sleep is one Minseok knows quite well.

Someone enters the room.

Minseok doesn’t turn to see and cannot tell who it is, until the person presses their body close. Jongdae shapes himself against Minseok’s back, an obvious mimicry of his tendency to back-hug, hidden thinly under the guise of putting the car keys back in Min’s pocket.

Goose-bumps rise from where Jongdae’s breath hits against his spine as he tells Minseok he’ll see him at home. Hands fit tight to his waist for a second before Jongdae detaches himself, and disappears.

All in all the exchange only lasts probably ten seconds but Minseok is frozen, a swarm of ugly moths stuck in his throat.

By the time Kyungsoo appears, Minseok still must not have his expression schooled well enough, because the chef asks him if he’s okay. He says he is and they get going.       

(He’s lying).  


* * *

 

There’s an empty seat between him and Baekhyun. It doesn’t quite make sense as Baekhyun literally shoehorned them into the end of the row.

“The guy Soo is crushing on is performing before Yixing. Don’t let him see the program,” Baekhyun whispers when he sees Jongdae’s confusion.

 _Conniving little bastard_ , Jongdae thinks, but grins. By putting Kyungsoo between them, they’re in a prime position to watch his reactions.

Kyungsoo, as expected, is frustrated when he sees where the free seat in their row is. There’s a frown on his mouth when he sits, but Jongdae reckon it’s just for show. (Well, until Baekhyun starts pestering him that is).

Jongdae spares a grin for him, wedging the program under his leg, before he turns his attention to Minseok. Who looks so good. He always does of course, but in fitted navy trousers, and a pinstriped suit-jacket over a white shirt, Jongdae can’t help himself. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Kyungsoo’s questioning look so Jongdae leans in his seat towards Minseok to say something.

Kyungsoo turns his attention back to the front.

“Okay?” he asks, in Minseok’s ear, and doesn’t miss the way he tenses, especially when Jongdae’s hand settles across his thigh.

(Minseok doesn’t ask him to move it. Small victories).

Jongdae leans back in his seat. The lights dim.

When Jongdae’s eyes adjust to the darkened hall and the first dancer starts, Jongdae makes the mistake of glancing back over. The curve of Minseok’s cheek and the fan of his eyelashes are highlighted by the spotlights, and it’s safe to say that from then on Jongdae ends up missing most of the acts before intermission. Honestly his attention never stood a chance; singing is more of his thing, Minseok is so ethereal in this light and he never gets a chance to just _look._ Especially when he doesn’t have to worry about being caught. Because although Minseok has sat straighter in his seat, his eyes are solely focused on the stage.

Dancing intrigues Minseok. It’s common knowledge that he loves watching it, but not many people know that he’s fairly good himself. That before their group extended, and Minseok went back to University, Jongdae, Minseok and Yixing used to spend a lot of time at the dance studio.

That’s how he spent most of his free periods, sitting against the back wall, watching Minseok and Yixing making their way through a routine. Watching Minseok laugh through the mirrors, sunlight glinting off his hair through the window. Watching the concentration on Minseok’s face as he learnt new dance, unaware of the sweat trailing down his face as he tried to match Yixing’s steps; not as naturally gifted but working damned hard to be as good. (Before Luhan happened, before the stress of University caught up to him and before he let go of all the things he felt he was too old for).

It’s around that time when Jongdae first realised he was in love with Minseok. Thinking, as they sat against the wall, sharing food and laughter, music pumping from the speakers as Yixing danced on, that this _was so easy_ and he wouldn’t mind doing it forever.

 

* * *

 

 

When they file out into the open air, it’s hard to not be slightly relieved.

Minseok loves dancing, the show was incredible, the dancers amazing, but it was incredibly difficult to focus. Because despite the darkness, despite his own attention never leaving the stage, he’d felt Jongdae’s eyes on him the whole time.

He strikes up a conversation with Junmyeon. As the oldest ones, they tend to gravitate towards one another when they’re in a large group. For all his efficiency, there’s something awkward about Junmyeon in social situations. (He also thought talking to Jongdae’s cousin might’ve dissuaded him, or caused his attention to be drawn elsewhere).

Of course he is wrong, and wants to scream when Jongdae attaches himself to his back like a limpet. The younger’s chin comes to rest on his shoulder, cheek to cheek, arms tightening around Minseok’s chest. Jongdae's touch sears like a brand.

Minseok tries not to speak through gritted teeth.

Everybody’s attention turns towards the back exit where the dancers are starting to file out. Even Jongdae’s head turns. Minseok tries to pry his hands off from around where they’ve slipped to his waist and all his pent-up frustration bursts out as a hiss, “Jongdae, _get off me!_ ”

Minseok tries not to notice the way Jongdae almost cringes back, so different from the way he usually reacts when anyone else scolds him. Because what, in the five years they've known each other, this would be the first time Minseok's frustration has been directed at him.

He paints a smile on his face as Yixing approaches, followed by two others. Bitterness hits his stomach in one foul swoop when he sees how Kyungsoo looks at the dancer. The ugly feeling spreads at the obvious way Jongin looks back when the chef isn’t looking, suggesting he feels the same.

Suddenly enraged, Minseok snatches his shaking hand away from where Jongdae’s fingers brush against it. In the moment he doesn’t care about his hurt.

All his anger drops away when the tall, broad one is introduced as Sehun. Sehun is effortlessly handsome, all angles, like a model. (Everything Minseok ever wanted to be and isn’t). Instantly he feels sick. _Luhan knew_ a Sehun.  Not for the first time, Minseok wonders if there was someone else (Someone prettier, someone funnier someone _better_ ).

Unable to stomach it all, Minseok bids a hasty departure despite being outwardly calm, trying to ignore the worried looks on everybody’s faces or the footsteps as Jongdae catches up to him.

The drive home is silent. Minseok knows Jongdae is trying to figure out words to say, just as he knows he had his arm outstretched before, but dropped it before he touched Minseok’s shoulder, and breaks the silence to say “don’t.”

“Min-“

“ _Don’t_ ,” Minseok repeats, but it comes out small and sad and pleading, rather than sharp.

When they get home, Minseok disappears into his room. Pencil clutched between white fingers as he stares at his work without seeing. Just like how he refused to look at Jongdae during the ride home.

"Min?" Jongdae calls outside the door. Min turns his headphones up but he doesn’t miss the faint, "When are we going to acknowledge this?"

Minseok pretends not to hear, but when he knows Jongdae is gone ten minutes later, he puts his head in his hands. It’s a double-edged sword. It’s hurting Minseok that he’s hurting Jongdae but if he gives Jongdae what he wants, it’ll destroy him when he ultimately leaves.

_Because they all leave him eventually._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry for making Min so sad.


	6. Chapter 6

 

Jongdae knocks on Junmyeon’s door, even though he’s already retrieved the key from one of the planters flanking the path. For three seconds he waits patiently, but there’s no reply.

“Suhoooo?” he calls when he lets himself in, slipping easily into the nickname, voice echoing in the entrance-way.

Again, there’s no reply, but Jongdae still hesitates – he’s learnt his lesson from the time he walked in to see Junmyeon with a woman around his hips, their lips locked. (Junmyeon and the random woman had sprung apart when Jongdae screeched, and she had left pretty quickly after that. It was a little childish maybe, and its not like he thought his cousin was celibate or anything, it’s just weird to see someone who you used to share baths with almost getting it on in the kitchen).

(There’s no one there thank God).

Above, the diamond lights shine bright, but cold. The house is done in black stone counters, white walls and grey accents. Minimalistic, the furniture barely fills the spacious rooms with their high ceilings. Without the presence of people, the silence is almost deafening. The traces of Junmyeon he sees – the open pantry door, the newspaper on the coffee table and the blanket over the back of the sofa – are almost sad. He knows his cousin gets lonely here sometimes. Especially since Yifan left. 

Jongdae slides across the tile in his socks. It’s not often that he feels small, but in this large, quiet house he does. 

He has just helped himself to the pantry when there’s a high-pitched scream behind him. When he turns around, sandwich half-hanging out of his mouth at the spectacle his cousin just made, Junmyeon relaxes, placing the vase back on the bench, “Oh it’s just you.”

“Well don’t sound _too_ happy about it hyung.”

Used to Jongdae’s dry sarcasm, Junmyeon just rolls his eyes and disappears back into the hallway. Jongdae shakes his head, Junmyeon should be used enough to his visits, he comes most Saturdays; twice a week when he’s feeling anxious. Like now.

By the time Junmyeon returns, Jongdae is on his second sandwich and has retired to the uncomfortable leather couch he doesn’t think gets used when he’s not there.

Junmyeon takes the plate left for him and joins him. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Jongdae admits. It’s not often he does, but Junmyeon always asks.

Although there’s a four-year age gap and Jongdae absolutely rips the shit out of Junmyeon every chance he gets, they’re close, and Jongdae has the biggest amount of respect for his cousin. What he’s achieved, and who he is, considering the lack of credit he gets. They’ve been close since childhood, and it was Junmyeon who inspired his move to Goyang.

There isn’t much they don’t talk about, except _well_ , when Jongdae said only Baekhyun knew about his feelings for Minseok, it wasn’t a lie. When he first realised the way he cared for Minseok was above what a normal friend felt, he’d wanted to keep it a secret. By the time he realised Junmyeon still didn’t know, it was four years on (Jongdae figures it’s a bit late to tell him now).

Antsy, and unable to stay still, Jongdae jumps up, dumping both plates in the sink before wandering further into the house.

It’s only been two weeks since he’s been to Junmyeon’s, but there are several new objects, all covered in large white sheets. Being a successful business man must have it perks, he thinks, humming to himself. One of the new, unwrapped toys is a table tennis table, and Jongdae shouts for his cousin to _come here._

Jongdae laughs at Junmyeon’s ridiculously excited serving stance and gets the paddle thrown at him for insolence. Unlike the table, the paddles aren’t new, with peeling rubber and faded wooden handles, one of which still has KJD etched into the bottom.

Satisfied at Junmyeon’s smile-wrinkles making an appearance, Jongdae milks his injury for all it’s worth, crying, “is this how you treat your favourite cousin?! It’s like Yixing all over again!”

Junmyeon groans, and a cackling Jongdae uses his distraction to score the first point. Ever since his cousin promoted Yixing to manager, Jongdae has been winding Junmyeon up about it. It’s not like Jongdae actually wants the job – sitting in an office all day _no thanks_ – but it’s fun and all too easy to needle Junmyeon. His cousin is far too young to have a stick up his ass.

 

 

 

 

They play table tennis for about two hours. Out of practice, Jongdae wins only by two points. Eventually they end up back in the kitchen, drinking coke and sharing a plate of fried chicken (Junmyeon’s treat). When Junmyeon makes his umpteenth cringey joke, Jongdae makes his leave with the leftovers, cackling as Junmyeon chases him to the car (he still drives him home though). Suffice to say, as Jongdae walks to his front door, he’s feeling much better. In fact, he’s singing to himself as he digs around in his pocket for his key.

That good mood changes when he walks into a dark apartment.

It’s a Saturday, and _six._ Minseok should be home. Unless… Jongdae pulls his phone from snug in his jeans pocket, but it’s blank. Minseok _always_ comes home if he doesn’t say otherwise.

No. _No._ He’s not going to do this, Minseok is a grown-ass adult and Jongdae is not some nervous wife.

To block out his thoughts while he showers, he plays his music. Loud. Belting out the lyrics in a way that their neighbours will surely complain about (it has happened before, his “lovely voice” not enough to sway them apparently). With nothing left to do at six-thirty – he’s so pathetic honestly – Jongdae slumps in his desk-chair, spending the next two and a half hours annoying Baekhyun through text, re-writing some of his lyrics, and watching cat videos on YouTube.

Eventually, Jongdae glances around his moon-darkened room – the white boring walls, his too-big desk covered in song-writing paraphernalia, and the queen bed with the duvet placed in a half-assed attempt to at least seem like he tried to make it, and admits defeat.

He crawls under the covers at 9:30, an all-time low on a _Saturday night._

 

 

 

 

And wakes Sunday to a blank inbox, and an empty apartment. Minseok never came home.

For the first time, Jongdae feels like this is hopeless.

 

* * *

 

Yixing doesn’t say anything when he opens the door to see Minseok, just lets him in (pats his butt as he passes but that’s just Yixing). Even as late as it is now, it’s not uncommon for them to show up at one another’s house when they need a break. 

Yixing’s house is cosy wee thing, done in blue and purple pastel, clean, but cluttered with utterly random but ultimately cute keepsakes. It’s a testament to how well Yixing knows him that he’s already pushed his couch together and covered it in blankets. 

They two of them are similar, fairly quiet people who are allowed to settle in themselves. Not pulled into conversation the way, say Kyungsoo is. (Kyungsoo’s reactions are probably half the reason he does; that, and Chanyeol and Baekhyun are little shits). Yixing is also a great listener if he wants to talk, doesn’t pry if he doesn’t. (And Minseok doesn’t). 

“Minseok hyung, what movie do you want to view?” Yixing asks, bounding over to his bookcase full of DVDs. He’s no movie buff like Kyungsoo, but has a varied collection and loves picking apart the musical scores.

“You choose,” Minseok replies, unfussed, draping the blanket over his lap.

After putting in the movie, Yixing burrows himself into the covers on the other couch, flicking his hood over his head.

Although Minseok’s eyes are on the TV, his mind isn’t. He can’t stop thinking about the mess with Jongdae and the guilt burrowing itself under his skin.

There’s a reason he likes architecture. Likes straightforward, clear-cut plans, is very suited to the one-way-to-do-things. Likes the safety of it, hidden behind the pleasing aesthetics. Predictable, unlike messy human emotions.

The character on-screen is currently having a fight with a dragon-thing, but Minseok has no idea how they got there. He looks to Yixing for clarification, but the man’s eyes are closed, which Minseok should really not be surprised about.

Slipping out from his cocoon, Minseok grabs their plates and wrappers, cleaning them before heading to Yixing’s bathroom to brush his teeth with the spare toothbrush kept in the drawer. His eyes stare back at him as he brushes, hair lighter two shades under the bathroom lights. Not for the first time, he picks holes at his reflection; teeth sizes too small for his mouth and cheeks that will always be too big no matter how much they shrink. Scowling around the brush in his mouth, he hates that he looks so young. Minseok spits and rinses, watching the foam-saliva mix disappear into the drain before turning off the tap.

Yixing has sunken further down the couch, a curl poking out from beneath his hood, face relaxed, small smile on his face which brings out his dimple. He looks sweet. It makes Minseok glad to see him so happy. There had been a period of time - before they knew the others - that Yixing had struggled to get a job because he was Chinese and his Korean hadn’t been the greatest. Minseok knows what it’s like to be judged before you even speak, and had tried to be as helpful as he could, even learning how to speak Mandarin. By employing Yixing when they had, Yifan and Junmyeon had done more for him than they’d ever know.

Minseok tucks his chin on his bent knees and forces himself to watch the movie. He watches until the end, but if asked about it, he wouldn’t be able to tell you the main character's name. Sits in place, even when the title screen is replaced with blue, trying to ignore the guilt of his recently-sent inbox being bare.

Yixing sleeps peacefully on, despite the colours playing bright in the otherwise dark room.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

By the time Minseok gets home the next day, he feels even worse.

The day had started well, with him and Yixing together, giggling over Minseok’s mispronunciation of a Chinese word, but had only gone downhill. His ongoing distraction left him to burn his finger no less than three times, spill a coffee down himself and over the counter, and get yelled at by a customer when he counted the wrong change – a mistake he hasn’t made in two years.

The walk home is cold, not having a jacket, wind biting into his borrowed button-up. He drops the keys when he goes to unlock the door, and accidentally punches the ground when he bends to pick them up.

Mouth on his sore finger, Minseok shuffles inside, almost disappointed when he sees Jongdae’s door is closed. Minseok turns away though, because even if it was open, there's a massive wedge between them now. They don't even really talk anymore. 

Ever dutiful, Minseok packs his things away and retreats into his room to get some stuff done. But hours of sitting at his desk blend together until it's eleven o'clock, architecture work in front of him barely touched. Because, unbidden, his mind refuses to forget about Jongdae. Guilt still, over last night. Because Minseok knew where Jongdae was.

Minseok can’t do casual sex. It may work for some people but not him – and what can Minseok do when Jongdae has never indicated he wants anything more. It makes his heart ache, because Jongdae is so young and full of unbridled hope and joy and Minseok is close to thirty and his heart feels cracked and bitter. It aches because Minseok genuinely cares for Jongdae. And where does that leave their friendship? Because Jongdae so full of talent and passion and charisma, and could go to the stars if he wanted, Minseok is jaded, and a barista, twenty-eight years old and still at university. Age and insecurities have a hand in crafting a part of Minseok's stoic persona - he doesn’t want Jongdae to turn out like him.

His pencil snaps. Minseok startles, because he didn’t realise how tight his grip had been getting. A giant line now slashed across the page. Inerasable because his notes are also in pencil. Anger spiking, he throws the pencil halves down, satisfied when they bounce with force. Scrubbing his hands hard against his face, Minseok sits back, and then pushes his chair away from his desk, the legs scraping across the floor as he stands.

Long past hungry, Minseok is in the kitchen, eating a bagful of crisps before his mind catches up with his actions. It’s silly maybe, but Minseok’s stomach drops as the calorie intake glares loudly out at him. His weight has long since been an issue for him, Exordium’s previous management only one in the long line of people who suggested he go on a diet.

It's the tipping point; a combination of his day, week, month, and he can't breathe. He's drowning in it.

Minseok falls apart under the kitchen lights.

_Like everything else around him._

 

* * *

 

Something doesn’t feel right. Jongdae somehow knows this, in his bones, when he hears the door shut harshly when Minseok comes home.

Hurt, he leaves it alone, turning up his headphones.

The uneasy feeling is still there when he wakes again at midnight to a light under his door. It’s not something he can ignore, and he rolls out of bed, tugging his sweatshirt over his head groggily. Grogginess that disappears the instant Jongdae walks out into the kitchen to find Minseok bent over under the harsh kitchen light.

His voice, his approach, is tentative. “Min?”

Minseok is trembling, and dread drops a heavy weight in Jongdae's stomach. Because this hasn’t happened in a long time.

"I just want to forget all this for a while,” comes his muffled voice.

"Okay," Jongdae says, something like fear caught in his throat, pulling Minseok to him, not saying anything to soothe because he knows Minseok doesn’t like words. Words can be empty, can be taken back, as if they never existed, leaving only hurt and false promises. Because Jongdae knows that Minseok feels Luhan’s depature like a phantom limb; constant, painful evidence that he isn’t good enough.

Jongdae’s hand cradles Minseok’s nape. To him that couldn’t be further from the truth, Minseok is the sun, an unparalleled brightness in his life. Jongdae doesn’t voice these thoughts because they’re selfish, they’re not what Minseok needs from him.

Knowing that forgetting is just for tonight, Jongdae hugs Minseok’s smaller body tighter, knowing that eventually, eventually, this will all come back to them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guysss, guess who's back from a trip and is hating work already! (Hint: it's me).
> 
> This chapter is very very short, so I'll probably post another one today.
> 
> (My copy of The War arrived and I'm so thrilled, it's actually beautiful. I also may or may not have bought the rest of the photocards... I'm trying to mentally prepare for the dropping of the repackaged album, I am in LOVE with the comic book concept and can't wait to see what they do with it. But guess who's going to be at work when they drop it. Also me).

Jongdae wakes alone, the spot beside him vacated and the covers pulled tight to the pillow.

Rubbing his eyes, confused with being pulled from sleep, it takes a minute to register that Minseok has gone (his hyung so exhausted last night that he hadn’t resisted when Jongdae gently pulled him towards his room). The noise of the blender cuts the beginning of worry, and he traipses out into the kitchen.

Minseok smiles at him, wan, but genuine, and Jongdae returns the gesture by grimacing at the green (green!) smoothie his hyung is currently pouring into a glass. In retaliation, Minseok swats at him as he passes to grab a bowl of cereal and Jongdae dances out of the way, grinning.

It’s almost how it was before, until Minseok moves forward, stops, and then turns back towards the counter.

Jongdae shoots him a smile, _it’s okay hyung, don’t worry,_ and hops up onto the bench. When Minseok asks if he wants something to drink, Jongdae declines somewhat inaudibly around his mouthful of cornflakes. Luckily, Minseok speaks early-morning-Jongdae, and nods.

Watching as close as he is, Jongdae sees Minseok’s arm move, once, then stop, a cut-short movement, his back tensing. Jongdae leans far enough across to see what’s happened, his chewing slowing when he sees that Minseok has accidentally set two coffee mugs on the counter. Nobody but Minseok drinks coffee. Well, aside from Luhan that is…

He holds his breath but Minseok packs it away after a pause, continuing on as if it never happened.

 

 

 

Jongdae smiles at him when he turns around.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, it only just occurred to me that this chapter and the previous only have one p.o.v in them each. That's just because they were originally one chapter, nothing to be worried about. (If you'd even noticed).
> 
> For those who haven't read Autumn Eyes (the first piece of the series), this chapter might seem a little out of the blue. But essentially Junmyeon owns the veterinary clinic, and his higher-ups have told him that there are too many animals in the kennels, and if they don't adopt them out, they will have to euthanize them. Hence the pet-adoption day.

When Friday morning comes, Minseok feels refreshed.

Since Sunday night, everything has seemingly worked itself out; work has gone smoothly, he salvaged his notes and finished that assignment, and hasn’t really seen Jongdae for five days. The rain stopped yesterday afternoon, and the morning is warm enough for him to have the window wound down.

It doesn’t feel like autumn today. (Minseok can’t help but smile).

Jongdae’s voice is casual, but tentative when he asks, “what’s got you smiling so much today hyung?”

“The weather.” It’s not a total lie.

Jongdae simply hums. He’s out of the car before Minseok can even cut the engine.

Slightly more sedate, Minseok follows, passing through the back door that hadn’t even swung closed; to a conversation between a startled Kyungsoo and a grinning Jongdae. Minseok gets the gist immediately, having heard Kyungsoo’s previous complaint, and can’t help the quip that comes to surface.

Kyungsoo high-fives him. Minseok can’t help the big smile that breaks across his face when Jongdae whines about the chef ruffling his hair, teasing him further.

Feeling playful, Minseok ignores the grumbling that follows him into the staffroom, humming to himself as he rolls up the sleeves of his work-shirt to his forearms. It’s the pet-adoption day today, and from what he saw when he drove past, it looks promising.

"Do you remember the time we thought we broke the coffee machine?" Jongdae asks, out-of-the-blue.

"Two scariest seconds of my life," Minseok laughs.

It’s funny now, but hadn’t been at the time, their faces showing identical horror, frozen as the coffee machine gurgled then turned silent. Jongdae had just pressed the wrong button, it had been fine, but it hadn’t felt like that until the manager showed them what had happened. (It’s an unspoken part of the reason Jongdae instead ended up as waiter).

In the time Minseok ties his apron on, the humour is gone from Jongdae’s face, and he’s serious when he ties up his own apron, "it's been a while since we did this."

Minseok knows he's not talking about waiting together. And usually Minseok wouldn’t think twice about grabbing Jongdae’s hand to pull him along but now he does, and his hesitation causes an awkward aborted hand movement that Jongdae notices.

Minseok freezes, but Jongdae just smiles sweet.

Relieved beyond words, Minseok returns it, and leaves to return to Kyungsoo.

 

* * *

 

Weaving between people with plates of food in his hand, Minseok watches hordes of children chasing one another; the sound of laughter and music high in the air. Smells the sweet food and flowers, breeze lightly ruffling leaves and people’s hair. Junmyeon’s organisation of today has been seamless.

It’s a beautiful day, and the people are all lovely. Thoroughly enjoying himself as he is, Minseok’s shift is over before he knows it.

He gets caught up a few times on his way back to get rid of his uniform, stopping to let a kitten sniff at his hand, and gaggles of children clinging onto his legs, chattering nonsensically. He tries not to be jealous when he sees a little girl in Jongdae’s arm – children flock to him so much easier.

(Case in point _,_ when three children detach themselves to go over to the other man).

It must be the smile, he thinks, when Jongdae turns it to him, the lines around his eyes deepening with his mirth. Jongdae, being a permanent waiter, is scheduled on longer, so Minseok waves him a temporary goodbye with spread fingers before crossing the street back to Exordium.

Despite his excitement, he folds his clothes carefully, placing them into his cubbyhole. Glad for the warm day, Minseok changes into a high-necked white singlet printed with some circular logo, faded-blue skinny jeans and white high-tops. Weird pink suspender things hang around his hips – they came with the jeans which were a gift, from Jongdae. He fixes his hair, and the bracelets around his wrist before heading back out.

 

* * *

 

Minseok spends the next hour wandering the park alone. Somehow, in that time he doesn’t come across anyone (the exception being Jongdae who sneaks a pork bun into his hand, before running off again, blatantly ignoring the fact that Minseok is meant to be on a diet). Minseok, however, doesn’t feel a single shred of guilt as he sits under a tree eating it.

Eventually he spots Kyungsoo and Jongin, facing the stage, watching Chanyeol strum his guitar, and heads towards them.

Minseok can’t resist the urge to grab Kyungsoo from behind, wrapping the younger man in a hug. His dongsaeng’s shirt-front is damp where his hands settle, see-through Minseok guesses, from the looks Jongin was sneaking every few seconds. Although Kyungsoo’s waist is still the same size, he’s definitely broader than he used to be.

Docile today, Kyungsoo lets him sway back and forth, his bigger hand patting Minseok’s.

“I always forget how good he is,” Minseok admits as Chanyeol’s voice, amplified by the microphone, travels through the park. They hear him rap more than they hear him sing.

Kyungsoo’s answering hum is a gentle, happy thing.

Quiet, Jongdae joins them. With the movement of his arrival, Minseok catches Jongin watching him from the corner of his eye, a little furrow between his eyebrows, accompanied by a wee pout. _Possessive._ Minseok _was_ correct in his assumption the night of the dance recital then.

Gradually they’re joined by the others, until there’s nine of them and no one else left in the park. The adoption day had been a massive success, Sehun telling them that there is now only fifteen animals left in their care.

Minseok’s new kitten, Nunsong, is curled up asleep in front of him and he strokes a gentle finger across her fur. He hadn’t set out to adopt an animal, but took one look at her large blue eyes and had caved. Cross-legged on the grass, he watches Jongdae striding in front of their otherwise relaxed, rag-tag group.

Not really paying attention to the conversation after agreeing to work drinks, Minseok tips his head back, tepid breeze washing over his face, kind.

His eyes don’t quite snap open when someone mentions last time they went out, but it’s close. Minseok doesn’t remember anything from that night, but woke up with a ripped-open shirt, and his jeans halfway down his legs, so has a pretty good guess to what he got up to. (He hasn’t touched vodka since).

Jongdae is quiet on the drive home, Nunsong cradled in his arms. It suits him, Minseok thinks, the contrast of white fur and black hair.

“What’s her name Min?” Jongdae asks, using the finger of the hand by her head to stroke the fur at her neck.

“Nunsong.”

“It fits,” Jongdae says, huffing a laugh at the simple meaning, “Do we have any cat food at home?”

“I thought we could do that now. They already gave me a bed.”

Jongdae nods his assent, humming a lullaby that Minseok recognises from Sunday night. It fits well with the darkening sky, shot with indigo and orange.

The trip to the supermarket is quick. It’s a little overwhelming, the amount of shelves dedicated solely to animals.

Minseok buys treats, a scratching post, a litter box, and a few more things he doesn’t need but somehow end up in his basket, and Jongdae finds a way to pay for half the items while Minseok is distracted. This cat is going to be _spoiled._

Nunsong is awake by the time they get back, yowling silently through the glass. She settles when she curls up in Jongdae’s lap, and Minseok tries not to feel betrayed when they get home and she ignores her kitten bed and curls up at the end of Jongdae’s instead.

Minseok can’t blame her though. (Especially when they both look at him in the doorway, with identical curly mouths and expressive eyes).

“Fine,” He concedes, endeared by the piece of hair fallen across Jongdae’s forehead. “Thank you Jongdae,” Minseok adds quietly as he pulls the door shut, and doesn’t miss the fondness in the younger man’s surprised smile.

Minseok himself smiles as he heads to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is curious, Nungsong is meant to mean snowflake in Korean. (I say meant, because google translate isn't the most reliable of sources).


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so wow, this fic is finally nearing it's end. Don't worry, there are going to be twelve (or thirteen I haven't fully decided) chapters, but this is the last chapter of normalcy before stuff actually comes to a head. You have been warned...
> 
> Just kidding, don't worry guys, there isn't much angst left, I thought i'd be nice.
> 
> AND HOLY CRAP THE POWER MUSIC VIDEO SOMEBODY HOLD ME. Plus, someone needs to talk to me about the dance because they genuinely look so happy whilst performing which soothes my cold, dead heart. I do miss Yixing though :((
> 
> P.S. I watched another one of Kyungsoo's movies as well (My Annoying Brother) and cried only slightly less than I did in his last one (seriously make a happy movie hun). So if anyone wants to talk to me about these things PLEASE do, I love feeling important.
> 
> Okay, I'm going to go before I ramble on forever, enjoy and please comment!

“Did you _seriously_ look over my shoulder?” Jongdae hisses into Baekhyun’s ear, trying for quiet anger, because Junmyeon is literally right in front of them.

“Yes?” Baekhyun replies, like _well duh, how else was I supposed to get into the staffroom,_ throwing his leg over Jongdae’s because Chanyeol is in the passenger seat.

Jongdae throws him off.

Junmyeon is dropping Jongdae and Minseok off at their apartment, because Baekhyun and Chanyeol are already dressed for the work drinks – Baekhyun in an oversized baseball tee and black ripped jeans, Chanyeol more sensible in a long navy coat and black trousers.

Minseok immediately disappears to shower. Jongdae instead heads to his room, throwing his bag onto his desk chair and flopping onto his bed, knees hanging over the end.

“No wonder you always look like you’ve dressed in a rush.”

Jongdae cracks open an eye, and with a distinct lack of surprise, groans.

Baekhyun is standing there with hands on his hips. Ignoring Jongdae’s reluctance, Baekhyun starts rifling through his dresser, muttering under his breath about ungrateful dinosaurs and how he should get paid for the things his pining friends put him through.

“Okay get up,” Baekhyun demands a minute later, clapping his hands, smirking when Jongdae jolts at the sudden weight of clothes hitting his stomach.

“All black? Really?” Jongdae asks dryly, but starts changing. Leather jacket, black shirt, black ripped jeans and black boots. All that’s missing is – “eyeliner,” he deadpans when Baekhyun brandishes the tube. With an ill-suffering sigh of “fine,” Jongdae concedes control, sitting still as Baekhyun lines his eyes, and then works a scary amount of product through his hair, pushing it back and up off his forehead.

“You done yet?” Jongdae asks, when it’s been a solid ten minutes and Baekhyun is still hedging around him, fixing his hair and dabbing touches to his face.

“Yes.” Baekhyun sings, _finally._ “Minseok won’t know what hit him!”

“Shut up,” Jongdae hisses, grabbing Baekhyun’s arm, because the apartment isn’t the biggest, and Baekhyun is permanently stuck on a LOUD setting. “It’s hopeless anyway.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Baekhyun says softly, all trace of snark gone in an instant, looking at the diamond glinting on his finger.

“Jongdae? You ready?” Minseok asks, knocking on the door, interrupting any further conversation.

“Yeah come in,” Jongdae says after a silent argument with Baekhyun involving lots of eyebrow movement, lots of frowning, and whacking on Baekhyun’s part.

Luckily Minseok is distracted by the appearance of Baekhyun, because Jongdae promptly chokes on his tongue when he walks in. He’s wearing a soft black long-sleeve, loose-ish, with thick occasional stripes of red and grey; paired with black jeans. A single silver earring dangles from his ear. Before Jongdae can say anything, Minseok is in his space, large eyes and smelling sweet.

And Jongdae’s back to where he started, eyes growing as large as saucers.

But Minseok has turned his face to Baekhyun now, who looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh, “Did you do his eyeliner Baekhyun?”

“Yup,” he replies, popping the ‘p.’

“It’s nice,” Minseok says, smiling, and Jongdae may as well be dead, because it’s near angelic.

Baekhyun claps Jongdae on the shoulder as he follows Minseok out, “you’re blushing Romeo. Are you _sure_ he doesn’t know?”

(Jongdae hits him. Hard).

 

* * *

 

"You’re a dick you know that!” Jongdae complains as Baekhyun goes straight to Chanyeol for a hug, acting like he hadn’t just closed the car door in Jongdae’s face. (He’s just huffy that no one asked if he was okay).

Kyungsoo is outside ‘Wolf’ already, next to Chanyeol, a small smile playing on his heart-lips as he checks his phone. Subtle from inside Chanyeol’s coat, Baekhyun winks at Jongdae; who’s admittedly a little jealous, cold air needling the holes in his jeans.

When Kyungsoo let’s them know that Yixing wants them to go ahead, they all file into the restaurant.

Volunteered to order the drinks because they were last through the door – apparently this is what politeness gets you nowadays – Jongdae, Minseok and Kyungsoo head up to the bar. Purposefully standing too close to Minseok so their shoulders brush, Jongdae reels off the seven orders off the top of his head.

“I still don’t feel right about this,” Minseok mutters.

Jongdae flicks Kyungsoo a glance to make sure he’s not listening before he assures Minseok that it’s fine, Baekhyun has a plan. Which is probably not the best approach, Minseok’s mouth turning down at the ends. “Look Min, we’ll stay behind after, and we can always intervene.”

Minseok still looks worried. But before Jongdae can say anything else, Jongin is there with them and the two echo Kyungsoo’s greeting, eyes caught on each other at the near miss.

They say nothing more until the drinks arrive, and by then the chance has passed, with most of the drinks in Jongdae’s arms, and then them sliding into the booth already half-full with their friends.

Surrounded by people whose attentions are all over the place, Jongdae plays quiet and just looks around. His friends, they all look so happy tonight.

And in this light, shining soft on Minseok’s hair and turning it gold; glinting off his earring, he looks breath-taking. _Wow, that was pretty gay._  Even for him.

Minseok has always been attractive to Jongdae though. Even with that piss-yellow haircut he had once, Jongdae muses, grinning at first, but sours when he remembers whose idea it had been.

Luhan’s. Luhan Luhan Luhan. Luhan did this, Luhan took me there. Jongdae couldn’t ever escape it.

Even now, Minseok stiffens when he hears Sehun say his ex’s name as he walks in, and Jongdae’s swallow of beer is bitter. He can’t help but hate the effect Luhan still has on Minseok.

And Jongdae hates that he’s _that guy,_ but he knew Minseok first. He'd thought they’d gotten along well, but not well enough for Minseok apparently, who introduced him to Luhan two months later. It had hurt.

Still hurts.

The all-familiar creep of guilt climbs its way up his spine, these thoughts like poisonous pufferfish spines, because Luhan had been his friend as well, and Minseok’s friendship _is_ precious to him.

Jongdae, thoughts now too heavy to meet Minseok’s questioning eyes, stays mum as he throws back the last of his beer, starting on another.

And another.

And another.

 

* * *

 

Originally, Minseok wasn’t going to drink more than two, until he notices how alcohol smooths the awkward edges around him and Jongdae – who for some reason won’t meet his eyes now. So he keeps going.

Minseok sniggers childishly when the bottle-top he throws hits Baekhyun in the forehead, leaving a red mark. _Serves him right._

He’s pretty good at acting sober, although much more prone to giggling, but he stills stays in the background, watching with lidded eyes, and no one suspects a thing.

Yixing procures a beret from behind the booth cushions and sits it gently on top of Minseok’s head.

Bravely, Sehun engages Minseok in conversation and they’re both immediately set at ease. The younger man’s I-could-kill-you front is just that, he’s really quite sweet (bitchy, but sweet) and Minseok instantly throws all his preconceptions out the window. He thinks Sehun must have a way of wrapping people around his finger as he finds himself ordering another drink for the new maknae. He gets himself another drink too, his fourth, if he remembers correctly.

Alcohol eases him into lightness, a floating feeling (he’s actually swaying in his seat). Minseok misses all the conversation, feels a brush of an arm across his shoulders and vaguely hears Jongdae singing in the background. Time passes like syrup, slow and heady.

Someone pulls him onto their lap, and Minseok cuddles back into the warmth, not having realised he stood up at any point.

Junmyeon hands him a glass of water which Minseok accepts, spilling some down his wrist and down Jongdae, and he bounces when Jongdae jumps. Yixing, the little lamb he is, drops a kiss onto his forehead. He scrunches his nose. When tipsy, Minseok’s docile and sleepy, like a cat having his stomach rubbed.

By his third glass of water, he’s sobered up substantially. Jongdae hasn’t, and is now pretending to be a tree. Junmyeon agrees at Minseok’s suggestion they leave, and they all stand.

‘Their’ plan works itself out when Kyungsoo heads to the bathroom. Sehun, with a straight face and no shame, tells Jongin to wait here, they’ll be back. Trusting, Jongin nods, head tucked into his arm as he slumps in the booth.

They scarper.

Minseok and Jongdae end up tangled in the backseat with Junmyeon in the driver’s seat, the other four ending up with Chanyeol in Yixing’s car. Five minutes of peering out fogged-up windows proves fruitful, as they see Jongin and Kyungsoo leave the restaurant together, close, heading towards Kyungsoo’s house.

Jongdae crows, loudly, right in Minseok’s ear. “It worked!”

“Baekhyun is going to be dreadful.” Junmyeon comments.

As if he heard them, Baekhyun has his head out the window when Chanyeol drives past, whooping, before he gets pulled back in by the hand curled in his shirt.

Minseok sits back against the seat, out of breath for some reason.

Jongdae’s head is resting on his chest, the younger’s eyes closed as he hums. He’s near sleep when Junmyeon pulls up at their apartment, and Minseok almost has to drag him out the car.

Jongdae's lethargy disappears as Minseok leans into the passenger window to thank Junmyeon, his hand reaching into Minseok's back pocket to grab the keys (and a handful of his ass).

Cutting short his conversation, with a muttered “sorry,” to Junmyeon, Minseok turns and follows Jongdae into the house before he can break something; the front door left swinging open.

Before he can even start a countdown, Minseok hears the tell-tale thud of Jongdae falling, a screech, and then Nunsong is streaking out of kitchen as a blur of white.

Jongdae appears a minute later, bottom lip sticking-out, three red scratches lining his forearm.

Minseok stands on tiptoes to retrieve the first aid kit. Patches him up, fingers thick and clumsy, feeling the heavy eyes watching him, but gets there, dropping a kiss on the bandage when he finishes, both because he still feels the alcohol, and to soothe Jongdae’s pout.

He smiles, “all done!”

Jongdae’s eyes are very intense on him when he looks up, and they’re so close, Minseok standing between the younger man’s legs from his perch on the counter.

“Thanks hyung,” Jongdae says, quiet voice fitting in with the mood of the night, and slips off the counter.

 

 

 

 

 

Nothing happens that night, although Minseok expects it to. No, nothing happens until weeks after that, when they’ve re-settled back into their friendship and it’s all been brushed under the rug again.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow okay, so welcome to one of the last chapters. This is set a couple of weeks after the previous chapter, and is kind of the culmination of everything. It's the longest chapter out of the whole story, and probably my favourite one. I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it! If you've read Autumn Eyes, this part of the story continues on after where that ended
> 
> This chapter also contains smut, non-explicit smut that is, but if you’re uncomfortable, stop at the line '…and after a few seconds Jongdae pulls back to laugh his loud, ridiculous laugh,' and resume reading at "'You're doing that now?'"]
> 
> Enjoy, and please comment!!

 

It’s the beginning of December now, which means winter, and the night of Jongdae’s first showcase.

‘Exo’ as they’ve collectively taken to calling themselves – because honestly, it’s easier - are all here to support him, dressed to the black-tie standard. Minseok himself is in a black vest and tie over a white dress-shirt, hair blond and pushed up off his face. He’s got his glasses on – the big black frames that make him look older according to Jongdae.

Respectfully quiet, the seven of them file into the reserved row at the front. There are two empty seats on Minseok’s left and he knows Jongdae is crushed that his parents can’t be here. It’s not nearly the same, but with Junmyeon’s help, Minseok has arranged for the concert to be filmed.

When the clock hits six, the big oak doors close, sweeping a whisper through the crowd. Minseok’s chest bursts with pride to see that the hall is packed.

As the curtain rises, all lights dim except the one illuminating the grand piano. Chanyeol sits facing away from the crowd, long legs stretched out in front, tails of his suit-jacket hanging down past the stool. His fingers press heavy across the keys, the start of a subdued ballad, and new light shines down slow, showing Jongdae sitting on a stool, centre-stage.

For a moment just the piano plays, until Jongdae raises his head and starts to sing.

His voice is quiet at first, the control he has, stunning, especially when it becomes clear that the song is about appreciating someone only when it’s too late. Discreet, the other instruments join the piano as Jongdae hits what must be the chorus. As the song builds so does Jongdae’s voice, a measured power. Alternating simply between standing and sitting, Jongdae is enthralling, the pain of the song suffused on his face. Min doesn’t know how he’s keeping his voice steady.

The last sentence comes after a beat, heart-breaking in its finality.

 

* * *

 

In his allocated hour, Jongdae shows how incredible his range is, making his way through several more ballads, happier love songs and a few upbeat ones about mystery and adventure; ending with a sweet Christmas song. He even does a song in Chinese, which Yixing makes a small happy noise about.

Minseok is spellbound throughout, he knows Jongdae’s voice, knows how good it is from years of hearing him sing in the shower and around the house, but he’s never heard it like this. Amplified glory, standing near alone, a natural extension of his body.

 

* * *

 

After the showcase, they wait in their seats as the rest of the audience file out. Minseok doesn’t think he’s moved since Jongdae’s final bow ten minutes ago, staring at the stage until a squeeze of his wrist from Kyungsoo lets him know they’re allowed to see him now.

“Sounds awfully important doesn’t he,” Kyungsoo mutters in his ear, and Minseok doesn’t know if he means Jongdae or the official-looking man leading them through a small hidden door, but it chokes a laugh out of him.

They stop at a rather unassuming door, which the man knocks on before poking his head in, saying, “your guests.”

“Did that guy have a giant stick up his ass or is that just me?” Baekhyun comments when the man turns to give them a tight-lipped smile, gesturing them in before disappearing down the hall.

Chanyeol and an unknown woman exit as they enter, Chanyeol squeezing Baekhyun’s hand as he passes. Somewhere along the way they’ve left behind Kyungsoo, Jongin, Yixing and Sehun.

Jongdae looks worn-out and overwhelmed, sweat shining at his hairline, jacket gone and stage wires hanging around his hips, but he also looks happy despite still breathing hard; unable to stop smiling.

“It was a success!” Junmyeon is saying, clapping Jongdae’s shoulder. “I don’t know if you could see it, but the hall was packed.” 

“Must’ve been because they all recognised your handsome face from the restaurant,” Baekhyun teases, elbowing Jongdae in the ribs.

Jongdae moves with the motion, letting out an exhilarated breath. He looks shell-shocked. “You know that woman that was in here with Chanyeol before? Well she was a scout, and they’re interested in signing me to their label.”

The sound level doubles with Baekhyun cheering, and Junmyeon side-hugging his cousin before running off to retrieve the others. Jongdae’s eyes finally meet Minseok’s from where he’s watching by the door, fond, and neither man notice Baekhyun leaving the room.

“What did you think of the show?” Jongdae asks, quiet and solemn, like he’s going to hang the stars on Minseok’s answer.

“It was beautiful,” Minseok answers truthfully. “I don’t think I could ever put it in words Dae.”

At his name, Jongdae steps forward for a hug, one arm pulling Minseok’s neck to him, crushing his glasses to his face in the process.  “Thank you,” Jongdae says against his skin, and he’s not quite sure what he’s being thanked for, but Minseok hugs him back, tight. Jongdae detaches himself when the others pour into the room, but doesn’t stray far.

Jongin’s smile is huge, Sehun’s smaller but no less congratulatory, and Kyungsoo actually hugs Jongdae willingly _._ Yixing goes straight for a squeeze to Jongdae’s ass, everyone laughing when he jumps at the surprise attack.

Chanyeol settles a big hand on Jongdae’s shoulder and waits until it goes quiet, “I think you’ve all heard by now but Jongdae here, on his _first night_ of performing, has already been asked to sign to a record label.”

Jongdae looks at Chanyeol almost accusingly when the second round of cheers die down, “Did you forget to mention hyung, that you’ve also been asked to continue producing my songs?”

Baekhyun’s affronted, “you didn’t tell me this,” is lost to all but Minseok in the third lot of excited yelling and hugs, but his pout disappears when he ends up tucked into Chanyeol’s side.

“We should celebrate,” Jongin suggests, smiling wide from the corner where he’s standing hand-in-hand with Kyungsoo. They make an adorable couple, Minseok thinks, and Jongin is a sweetheart. Easily amused, softness and well-intentions at odds with his ridiculously handsome looks.

“Where would be go though?” Baekhyun says, finger tapping his bottom lip. “It should be somewhere different.”

“How about we go out?” Jongdae suggests, lip curling. Baekhyun, Yixing and Jongin are keen, Junmyeon and Kyungsoo are not. “It’ll only be for a bit.” He adds imploringly.

Everyone’s resolves quickly bend to Jongdae, who is actually more convincing than people think (and no one wants to be the one to disappoint him tonight). Kyungsoo offers to drive when they settle on the nightclub ‘Monster’ – no surprise there, he wouldn’t set foot on a dancefloor even when dead-ass drunk.

Oddly enough, Yixing offers as well. “I don’t mind,” is all he says when they look at him.

“Okay, meet you there in twenty minutes,” Jongdae says, eyes sparkling.

 

* * *

 

“You showering?” Jongdae calls over his shoulder as he climbs the steps.

“No, you go,” Minseok replies, missing Jongdae’s reply when he rounds the corner.

He’s ready in record-time, choosing boots to match his jeans, a satin bomber jacket with a single stripe of pink up each sleeve to break up the black, and a soft grey-silk scarf to protect his modesty. Minseok pulls Nunsong into his arms for a brief cuddle, before he sets her down to go brush his teeth.

“Jeez Dae, how hot does the water need to be?” he asks when he lets himself into the bathroom, clouds of steam billowing out of the door and fogging up the mirror.

“Hot enough, hyung,” comes the cheeky reply from behind the shower curtain. Minseok rolls his eyes at that.

 

 

 

 

 

As someone who doesn’t feel the cold much, Minseok only shivers briefly when they make their way outside, but Jongdae isn’t, and his teeth start chattering. _It’s no wonder,_ Minseok thinks, when he sees what Jongdae is wearing. (A cotton-like white shirt made of two panels of material, swinging low enough to reveal layers of corded necklaces and a sharp-cut collarbone. The shirt is half-tucked into leather pants which are going to be difficult to wriggle out of later).

Jongdae practically throws himself in the car when Kyungsoo arrives. Minseok follows at a more dignified pace. Jongin chucks back a blanket, smiling, one around his legs already. Jongdae burrows himself into it, hand finding its way into the slit in the knee of Minseok’s jeans when he settles, playing with the skin there.

They’ve both already had a few drinks between themselves (tipsy Jongdae was mesmerised with the barely-there mesh that makes up Minseok’s shirt, which had embarrassed him). Tipsy Minseok can’t stop looking at the segment of hair curling softly onto Jongdae’s forehead.

 

 

 

 

 

When they arrive, the line is mercifully short.

Inside it’s loud. Bass thuds in his ears, almost to the point of pain, and Minseok sees Kyungsoo frown, rubbing his temples. It’s dark too, moving bodies visible only under the dancefloor and flickering spotlights. Minseok is probably nearing too old to be in a club like this - doesn't look it maybe but feels it. To get rid of his apprehension, Minseok follows Chanyeol’s cutting figure to the bar, doing a round of shots with Sehun, Junmyeon, Chanyeol and Baekhyun, which, at first, really only serves to make him feel _more_ old.

But now, on his way to pleasantly smashed, Minseok lets Baekhyun pull him into the throng of people with the others. They dance together for a while, hips dropping low, grinning, until Baekhyun spots someone making a move on his fiancé, and goes to confront them (even _Minseok_ might be scared in that situation. Kyungsoo has told him enough stories to warn off ever getting in-between Baekhyun and Chanyeol).

The alcohol has made him forget his earlier inhibitions, and he dances, spinning around Junmyeon and Sehun. Within minutes, Jongin and Jongdae appear from nowhere to pull him and Sehun away from Junmyeon’s embarrassing dancing, which apparently, was a planned tactical move.

Minseok turns into the hand on his forearm to dance chest-to-chest with Jongdae, whose mouth gapes prettily. Tonight, the alcohol makes him handsy, his hands going to the younger man’s hips, forcing them to move. Despite not being a dancer, Jongdae can move his hips well. Knees, not so much.

The music beats with his heart, rattles in his bones. When the coloured-lights start to flicker, the warmth in his arms disappears, and it’s just him and Sehun left. Barely seconds later, Sehun, awkwardness smoothed by alcohol, is happily pulled away into a group of foreign girls. Minseok laughs. Through half-lidded eyes, he spots Yixing moving effortlessly through the crowd, sober, but dancing fluidly, gathering a following already.

Drunk on alcohol and the atmosphere, Minseok dances on alone, watching the hanging lights swing above. One of the bulbs is out, and his eyes catch on them. Several people approach him, but Minseok is a tease tonight, dancing with them for a minute and then leaving them hanging. He finds Baekhyun and Chanyeol again, the two reunited, that obnoxious couple dancing as if they’re the only two in the room. Jongin pops up again from nowhere to join Minseok for a bit, hair mussed, a blush high on his cheeks. Jongin is such a pretty dancer, but Minseok keeps his distance, knowing Kyungsoo is in the corner somewhere and they’re both incredibly possessive. He’d never do that to his friends anyway.

Soon, he’s alone again. The crowd parts enough for him to see Jongdae standing at the bar. Leaning with his elbow on the counter, the line of his body pushed out. He’s just so _pretty._

Jongdae catches him watching, and his mouth curls into his glass as he tips the champagne flute back. His fingers dance on the stem and Minseok feels electric, giddy with the attention. Jongdae turns his head towards the woman next to him, saying something in her ear, but his kohl-lined eyes don’t move from Minseok.

Playing shy, Minseok flirts his eyes down down, shooting Jongdae glances every so often; in turn teasing the best he knows how, letting his jacket gape open as he rolls his body.

The minutes blend together until it’s been an hour, and then two, not that he’s keeping track, and still they haven’t moved, planets orbiting each other. The buzz of alcohol has tapered, but he doesn’t notice, punch-drunk with the game him and Jongdae have started. (Because, as he can only admit to himself when he’s drunk, that he’s tired of resisting Jongdae. Tired of denying him, dodging every flirtatious remark and flattering smile and Minseok in this moment couldn’t possibly even tell you why, because he _wants._ Man does he want).

 

 

 

 

 

It’s one in the morning when Kyungsoo finds him, stopping him with a hand on his arm. He leads Minseok to the exit, and leaves him outside beside Junmyeon, Jongin, Chanyeol and Baekhyun.

By the lamppost Junmyeon is singing to himself sweetly. Baekhyun and Chanyeol are another story. Drunk off their faces, the two of them are loud, giggling as they keep trying to run off. Jongin is very helpful, telling Junmyeon to “ _please stay there hyung_ ,” and taking care of Baekhyun while Minseok tries to keep Chanyeol under control.

“Wow you’re beautiful,” Chanyeol gasps, from where he’s propped up against Minseok’s shoulder.

Baekhyun flutters a shy hand over his mouth in response, and Minseok’s face must mirror Jongin’s in confusion, because _what._

“Stop flirting, you two idiots are literally _engaged_ ,” comes an unamused voice from behind them, Kyungsoo, returning with Yixing, Sehun and Jongdae in tow. “Every single time.” Minseok hears him mutter.

Jongdae shoots Minseok a heavy look that he can’t return because Chanyeol’s legs give out and he has to use all his strength to keep them from falling over. Still can’t return when they get in the car, because Jongdae is relegated to the back with Chanyeol and Baekhyun - now slumped over one another in fits of laughter.

Sober by the time they arrive, Minseok thanks Kyungsoo as Jongdae gets out of the car.

Kyungsoo stops him before he can get out, with a hand on his arm. “Just talk to him,” is all he says, earnest.

Lost for words, Minseok just nods and lets himself out, staying on the footpath until Kyungsoo’s car has disappeared around the corner. The ground at his feet is awash with the gold of the streetlight, and the darkened road glitters in the dark. He still doesn’t feel the cold. Sighing, a ribbon of mist escaping his lips, Minseok turns and heads inside.

Minseok sits on the end of his bed, toeing off his boots and scrubbing a hand over his face, makeup be damned. He’s almost glad that Jongdae isn’t waiting for him because, _what now?_ With a clear head, Minseok is conflicted. On one hand, he had a great time tonight. On the other, this isn’t just some person, this is _Jongdae,_ and there’s more at stake than just sex. Minseok doesn’t want to lose him.

When he looks up, Jongdae is in the doorway, in his long grey sleeping shirt and pastel shorts. Jongdae in soft colours is addictive to Min, who only ever sees him in black. He’s fresh-faced, and the shy smile on his face is what makes up Minseok’s mind.

Jongdae's pull and his push comes to an end when Minseok stands and gestures for him to _come here._

Smelling like peppermint toothpaste, Jongdae is in his space in an instant, close enough that they’re sharing the same air. Minseok waits, patient, for his consent. All Jongdae says is “please.”

Minseok moves before he realises, manhandling Jongdae so he’s on his back beneath him. Jongdae blinks, wide and surprised, before his lips curl into a smile and for the first time in so long, Minseok takes his time to look. At the short hair lying dark against the sheets, the square jaw, the sculpted cheekbones and sticky out ears. At the long-wide kitten mouth with the endearing crooked bottom row of teeth that is so Jongdae, and the prominent crow’s feet that appear with the grin; beginnings of wrinkles that maybe Minseok shouldn’t find attractive but does.

Because Minseok loves Jongdae. Has for a while now, something he has ignored out of fear, and buried even deeper within himself when Jongdae started flirting. Because Minseok’s heart is more fragile than he is, and Minseok can’t – _won’t_ \- lose his best friend. That thought makes him pause – what if…

Using Minseok’s distraction to his advantage, Jongdae collapses the arm holding him up, and rolls them over. Self-satisfied, Jongdae leans down, and kisses the surprise right off Minseok’s mouth. As far as first kisses go, its messy, Minseok still getting his bearings, Jongdae smiling too wide to get any purchase, and after a few seconds Jongdae pulls back to laugh his loud, ridiculous laugh.

Ignoring the sting – _if he’s going to have this only once it should be perfect_ – Minseok rolls his eyes and pulls him back down. That shuts Jongdae up quickly, and he soon dissolves into small noises, Minseok is pleased to note, when he pulls on his bottom lip with his teeth.

Figures Kim Jongdae would be noisy in bed.

Trying to give back as good as he gets (or probably to chase Minseok’s smug smile off his face), Jongdae takes Minseok’s earring between his teeth, and tugs. Minseok hisses, but settles, watching with half-shut eyes as Jongdae hurries to bare his skin for him.

Hands wander his body, Minseok shuddering when Jongdae dips his fingertips through the holes in his shirt, the ever-present ring on Jongdae’s index finger a spot of cold in the rising warmth.

Lazy, Minseok watches from kohl-ringed eyes, hands behind his head in a way that he knows is driving Jongdae crazy with impatience. Deliberately being unhelpful, Minseok jerks at the corner of Jongdae’s shirt, and he pauses to yank it over his head almost like an afterthought.

Minseok pauses Jongdae with a hand in the middle of his chest to get him to just _wait_ , sitting up. He has seen Jongdae shirtless countless of times yes, the long lithe torso not new to him, but in this light and context it’s different. Jongdae stops, complying when Minseok raises an eyebrow, and Minseok stands to divest himself of the rest of his clothes.

When he crawls back onto the bed, Jongdae’s fingers automatically skip over his ribs, playing them like piano keys, seeking out his tattoo.  (Running up his side, tribal-like in thick black lines, is a phoenix, one wing outstretched). _Oh._ He forgot Jongdae wouldn’t have seen it before. It’s only a few months old, courtesy of a drunken bet.

Growing impatient, and a little mean, Minseok flips them back over, pinning Jongdae’s arms to the sheets briefly with tight hands against his wrists.

“Yes,” Jongdae grinds out, breaking the quiet, eyes shut, long eyelashes brushing his cheeks when Minseok drops his mouth to his neck.

Splaying a hand on the stomach beneath him to feel the rise and fall, he is wicked in his pause. Jongdae whines for him to _keep_ _going, hurry up, anything_ and Minseok decides he likes teasing Jongdae. After all, if he's only going to have this once, he wants to take his time. Driving Jongdae out of his mind is just a bonus.

Clear and high, Jongdae’s notes only get prettier the further down his stomach Minseok kisses, scraping his teeth then soothing with his tongue. The noise fits with Minseok’s quietness. (Besides, it’s flattering).

Paused by where Jongdae’s waist disappears into his boxers, Minseok looks back up Jongdae’s body. Commits the image to memory. From here, Jongdae looks debauched already, torso littered with purpling teeth-marks, chest moving rapidly, neck tilted back and Minseok can’t help but scrape his teeth against Jongdae’s throat.

When Minseok lets his palm brush the front of Jongdae’s shorts, the younger man arches his back for him, spine curving. Pliant, Jongdae lets Minseok pull his body on top of his thighs. He figures pretty quickly that Jongdae likes it, skin tinting a darker shade of blushed.

“Sto-stop teasing,” Jongdae gasps out of swollen lips, sentence breaking when Minseok calmly slips his hand under the waistband. He’s never seen Jongdae so _wrecked_ and the sight and sound only make him burn hotter.

“Stop?” He says, hand stilling.

Jongdae almost growls (the sight somewhat ruined by the messy hair and the way his hips keep rolling). “I swear to god Minseok, if you don’t fuck me now, I’m going to go and fuck myself.”

Minseok laughs, but takes one more look at how Jongdae looks between his propped-up arms, and his resolve breaks. There’s no more teasing then, and he’s naked in less than a minute. There’s no shyness; together it may be new, but they’ve both done this before. It takes a while to get used to how their bodies fit together, but an odd sort-of calm has fallen over Minseok, and the pleasure is overwhelming.

Concentrating hard so he doesn’t hurt him, Minseok is slow and careful with his slicked fingers. Jongdae is shameless, greedy, asking for _more_ until there’s three inside him and Jongdae demands with a hand on himself to _hurry up Min._ In retribution, Minseok takes his time, curling his fingers just to hear Jongdae’s voice break around his highest moan yet, watching smug as he paints his stomach white.

Minseok retracts his fingers gently, wiping them on the bedsheet, deducing that they’ll have to be washed anyway. Jongdae’s chest rises sharply as he comes down from his high. Cruel, Minseok bends to nip at his inner thighs, holding Jongdae’s stomach down as he squirms at the sensitivity.

“Min please, ‘m sensitive,” he mumbles, trying to wriggle away but Minseok’s too strong, and Jongdae’s blissed-out body is feeble.

Another few minutes pass of Jongdae jerking minutely in his grip and making pretty whines in the back of his throat as Minseok leaves a solar-system of red marks behind, before he grabs Minseok’s wrist in a surprisingly-strong hold. His voice is solid too. “I’m ready.”

Luckily for him, so is Minseok. With a quick check to make sure Jongdae hasn’t tightened too much, Minseok shucks off his sleep-shorts, the lack of confinement a welcome feeling. Hands on Jongdae’s thighs to make room for himself, Minseok pushes forward, slow, eyes scanning for any discomfort. It’s too slow for Jongdae apparently, who takes it upon himself to bear his hips down, taking the rest of him in one go.

“Dae?” Minseok asks when Jongdae groan is more pain than pleasure, his eyes squeezing shut.

“It’s been a while – was a little impatient. Just give me a minute,” he says, out of breath, and Minseok pauses, hands running up and down Jongdae’s thighs to soothe.

“Okay I’m good.”

Minseok starts to move, strong, rough thrusts that cut off any more words Jongdae tries to say. He soon finds Jongdae’s prostrate, angling himself to hit it every time, blunt nails scratching down his back as Jongdae starts to sing for him again. Louder than before, voice reverberating off the walls, broken pieces of words that make no sense but only make Minseok harder.

Jongdae looks beautiful like this. Laid out in front of him bare, his face slack with pleasure, eyes nearly shut and hair dark against white sheets; lips bitten and kiss-swollen. He feels good too, so good, so tight, and Minseok can feel heat pooling in his stomach, having held back before.

Hips hammering harder now, unable to stop the chase towards both of their release, Minseok brushes sweat-soaked hair away from his forehead distractedly, pulling Jongdae further up onto his thighs for a different angle.

In return Jongdae huffs out a laugh and brings his hand up to cup Minseok’s neck, using that as leverage to bring him into a kiss. It doesn’t quite work out, Jongdae’s chin bumping against his, jolting with their hips, but Jongdae is nothing but stubborn and keeps on until he reaches Minseok’s mouth. (In the end it makes for a surprisingly tender kiss).

Minseok’s orgasm sweeps through him not long after, reaching down to help Jongdae finish. He pulls out gently and gets up to put the condom in the bin. Minseok pads over naked to open the window, so it won’t smell like sex, but pulls on his discarded shorts before leaving the bedroom.

“You’re doing that _now?”_ Jongdae groans softly, when Minseok comes back with an armful of new sheets.

“Yes,” he replies, chucking the water-warmed flannel so it lands with a _thwack_ on Jongdae’s face. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be clean and Minseok refuses to wake up in his own mess.

“Well I’m not moving.” Jongdae says, just to be difficult, and Minseok rolls his eyes. Despite his words, Jongdae heaves himself up on unsteady legs, and helps him remake the bed.

He puts his shorts back on when Minseok throws them at him and flops back onto the bed casual as anything, but that’s Jongdae for you. He flings an arm over his eyes, but that does nothing to hide his smile, “you coming?” he says when Minseok still hasn’t moved, and then snorts softly at his own pun.

Minseok refuses to think, flicking off the light. There’s a gap in his curtains and the lights from the street make the room a shade lighter than black, making the gleam of Jongdae’s eyes visible.

“Just get over here Min,” he says, a bossy little thing when he wants to be, pulling Minseok to him, and rearranging them both so that Minseok’s on his back with Jongdae is curled into him.

Minseok lies silent, looking at the ceiling, hand sweeping through Jongdae’s hair absent-mindedly.

“Go to sleep hyung,” Jongdae whispers, and in the dark it sounds like a promise, so Minseok does.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, this little section is a late happy birthday to my bias, and the literal sunshine, Kim Jongdae! It's not much, and the last chapter will come on Monday, like usual, but I just wanted to honour him in some way.
> 
> Also I did want to rant/cry a little bit, because Exo are in Australia... and I live in New Zealand. They're so so close, and it hurts that I couldn't go to the convention, and knowing that this might be the closest I ever get to them. Well, it breaks my heart a little.
> 
> Anyway, enough sadness!! Enjoy the second-to-last chapter, and please comment cuties! x

When he wakes, it feels like a different story.

Minseok blinks the sleep from his eyes, trying to make sense of the weight on his chest until his eyes focus. Then it all comes back to him.

Jongdae is already awake, playing a game on his phone that makes him mutter angrily when he dies for the fourth time. With Minseok’s chest directly below his head, Jongdae must sense the change in breathing because he idly says, “morning hyung,” as he continues tapping on his phone; before Minseok can even _think_ of something to say.

Encasing his spine in steel because in his mind there is only one way this can go, Minseok takes a breath and says, _“Jongdae.”_

At his tone, Jongdae pauses his game but doesn’t put the phone down, and if Minseok doesn’t say this now, he’s going to lose his nerve. He swallows around the rock in his throat. “Jongdae, I’m not looking for anything other than serious.”

There’s a pause, laden with the weight attached to the words. Minseok’s stomach goes hollow, and he tries to prepare himself for the words that will shatter his heart.

Jongdae’s hand stills from where he had been playing with Minseok’s nipple to intentionally rile him up. His head shifts so he’s looking Minseok in the eyes, smile gone, fully serious. "When did I give you the feeling _I_ wasn't?"

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-ho guys, I'm back with the last chapter of Cat and Mouse. 
> 
> (Funnily enough it was actually meant to be shorter, because I forgot the first half of this chapter was meant to be part of the last chapter. Oh well).
> 
> Despite what I have said previously, I am quite sad that this is ending. Jongdae and Minseok are my favourites, and there aren't many fics of them getting together when they are the main pairing. However, I don't think I could give anymore to this piece, without compromising the quality.  
> There is one more fic in this series, revolving around Chanbaek's story, so I hope you guys stick around for that!
> 
> (I do plan to write more Xiuchen definitely so don't worry!)
> 
> Enjoy, and please comment x

It may not look it, but blindsided, Jongdae’s mind has catapulted in confusion. Jongdae has been trying to hide his feelings for Minseok for what felt like forever and in what world would Minseok be undesirable? Countless people are always after him, saying he’s hot and cute and _oh,_ he feels so stupid.

No wonder Minseok had reacted the way he did when all he thought Jongdae wanted was a fuck. (Minseok may be good at keeping his cards close to his chest, but Jongdae knows what Luhan did to his confidence and self-esteem when they broke up).

In his moment of contemplation, Minseok has found some words, tone light when he says, “I wasn’t sure whether this was just the physical,” but Jongdae sees right through him, and shifts over onto his stomach.

"You're silly,” is what comes out when his words fight to come out to prove whatever Minseok is thinking wrong, “I loved you before you lost weight. You're perfect to me in any package."

Not his most eloquent, but still. Minseok’s eyes scan his face and whatever he sees must convince him Jongdae isn’t lying because relief floods onto his face.

But years of insecurity don’t disappear in a day, “You love me?”

“For like three years,” Jongdae says. He really never had a clue. “You really never had any idea?”

“No.” Minseok replies, honest, and he laughs too, “it took me _months_ to realise Luhan was flirting.”

His giggle reassures Jongdae, settling the knot in his stomach at ease, but he can’t stop his muscles tensing; the automatic response over the years to seeing the hurt on Minseok’s face when Luhan’s name was mentioned.

Sides pressed together as they are, Minseok doesn’t miss his reaction and his eyebrows furrow. “It’s _you_ who I care for Dae,” is all he says, astute, and he looks beautiful, mussed-hair and half-naked, painted in dim light by the sun sneaking in underneath the curtain.

Jongdae rears up to kiss him, morning breath and all because of this beautiful man; his best friend and other half, _loves_ him back. Then, he drops back to laugh wildly.

Because all this trouble, all this awkwardness and _pain_ , could’ve been saved if they’d just _talked_ to one another. For two that know each other so well…

Minseok smiles down at him, large and wide and gummy and Jongdae loses that train of thought.

 

 

 

 

"I'm twenty-eight,” floats Minseok’s voice out to Jongdae from where he’s adding more cat food to a sleeping Nunsong’s bowl.

"And I'm twenty-three," Jongdae replies, stirring the pancake batter, because _so?_ "It's only 4-"

"- Five."

"- Five years," Jongdae continues after the gentle correction, body tensing because it’s another excuse. “If you don't want to do this, just say so."

Sudden warmth appears at his back, Minseok there from out of nowhere, small hands wrapping around his middle, hooking his chin over Jongdae’s shoulder. “I do. It’s just that, I don’t want you to change your mind.”

“When have I ever changed my mind?” Jongdae counters, because reassuring isn’t what he wants to do right now. Luhan and him are very different people, and there are only going to be problems if Minseok goes into this constantly thinking Jongdae is going to leave him.

There’s a pause. “Alright,” is all he says.

Happy with that, Jongdae continues with the pancakes. It’s a little harder, movements hindered by the Minseok-sized weight attached to his back, but he doesn’t complain, especially when he receives kisses dropped all over his neck for his trouble.

Later, when the dishes are done (Jongdae argued that since he made breakfast that he shouldn’t do them, but Minseok is _very_ persuasive when he wants to be) they flop together on the couch. Lying across Minseok’s lap, Jongdae turns his face to press a kiss to the palm stroking his hair.

“Does this finally mean for once, that you were wrong?” he asks, playful, because all things considered, Jongdae likes to push buttons. (And he needs to make light of it, because it so easily could’ve gone the other way).

That is a sobering thought, but Minseok smiles sweet. He pulls Jongdae up, close enough to kiss him, and says to his ear in a honeyed tone, “don’t push it,” … and then shoves Jongdae off the couch.

The light and laugh etched into Minseok’s face makes the pain in his back (and ass) worth it, and Jongdae grins back up at him.

Content.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nothing much changes for them.

Minseok continues to run himself to the ground, stretching himself thin between his job, uni, the gym. Jongdae still spends hours bent over his desk practising his songs, and waiting tables until his feet ache, sitting at the kitchen until Minseok gets home.

They still live and work together, can still read one another with a look. They’re still the same people who need their own space, and who still argue about the level of tidiness the house needs to be in.

But there are kisses as well as hugs now, Jongdae’s bed hasn’t been slept in for months, they’ve made plans for the future _together_ , and most importantly; they now _know_ they’re in love with one another.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you believe I completely forget that nunsong existed and had to add her in, because i did


End file.
